Meredith stepped out from behind a tree fully dressed but disheveled. “We’ve got to hurry.” Isaiah fell into step beside her. She shot him a glare. “What are you still doing here?”
He ignored the pang in his heart and kept his features level. “You ever remove a silver bullet before?”
She bit her bottom lip as they swung out of the park and shot across a street and down an alley just as the first cop car pulled up outside the park. “No.”
“I have.”
Nothing more was said as they took a circuitous route back to the club, ducking in through the kitchen door in the back. Isaiah kept an eye on their back trail just in case, but sensed no one following them.
Meredith hurried up the stairs and burst through the door on the left side of the hallway. “Benjamin!” She called her son’s name as she ran.
“In here, Mom.” His voice was weak, but the fact that he was able to talk was a relief. She stumbled and Isaiah reached out a hand to catch her, but she shook him off.
Blood stained the bedclothes even though Teague was keeping pressure on the wound. Isaiah took charge. “Do you have any medical supplies?” Most packs kept some basic stuff on hand for situations like this.
Hank came in behind them, a large plastic tub cradled in his arms. “This is everything.”
Isaiah flipped open the lid and began sorting through packages and boxes. He pulled out a disposable scalpel, some forceps, bandages and some sutures. “I need to wash up.”
Meredith pointed toward a door off the bedroom. “In there.”
Meredith wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. She’d killed a man tonight. It hadn’t been the first life she’d had to take, but that didn’t mean it got any easier. Michael had also killed a man. It was a first for him.
She sought out her eldest son and found him standing silently in a corner watching his brother. Benjamin was injured. In all the years they’d been running, none of them had been seriously hurt before. They always ran rather than stand and fight. This time there’d been no choice. It was fight or die.
Water ran in the background, a stark reminder of what was about to happen. Isaiah was about to operate on her son. Meredith moved to the side of the bed and sat. Benjamin turned to her, his face pale and wan.
“It hurts more than I thought it would.”
Her heart squeezed. He sounded like a small boy looking for reassurance from his mother. “Everything is going to be okay,” she promised. At least she hoped it would. She brushed a lock of his thick dark hair away from his face.
Benjamin nodded and closed his eyes.
Isaiah came back into the room, a rolled-up towel in his hands. “Teague, hold his shoulders.” He glanced at Hank. “You hold his legs.”
“What about me?” She couldn’t find it in her to object to his heavy-handedness. Not when she was expecting him to save her son’s life.
“Hold his hand, but be ready if I need anything.”
She nodded and gripped Benjamin’s hand in hers.
“This is going to hurt like hell.” Isaiah’s movements were sure and brisk as he eased aside the bandage and studied the wound. “Are you ready?”
Benjamin nodded and Teague and Hank both gave the go-ahead. Isaiah brought the rolled-up towel to her son’s lips. “Bite on this.”
When the towel was clenched firmly in Benjamin’s teeth, Isaiah took the scalpel in his hand and made a cut. Blood seeped from the wound, making her stomach lurch and her head spin. She wasn’t usually squeamish, but this was her son’s blood.
“It’s a shoulder wound, so it’s not too bad.” Isaiah talked as he worked. She focused less on his words than on his tone. He didn’t seem overly disturbed and that calmed her somewhat.
She trusted him. Deep down on a cellular level, she trusted him with her son’s life.
He took the forceps in his hands and dug into the area he’d opened up. Benjamin’s entire body jerked, a muted cry coming from between his clenched lips. His limbs started to shorten and coarse hair appeared on his arms.
“Benjamin.” She took her son’s face between her hands and stared into familiar blue eyes, so like hers and filled with so much pain. “Fight it. You can’t change. Not now.”
He nodded and closed his eyes once again. He took a deep breath and his limbs returned to normal.
“Got it.” Isaiah dumped the slug on the bed and went back to the wound, picking out pieces of cloth and bone fragments. Meredith thought he’d never finish, but finally, he picked up the sutures and set several stitches. “The bullet didn’t go through. It did cause some slight damage to the bone when it hit. Whoever got him wasn’t using a rifle, but a smaller caliber weapon.”
All the better for the silver bullet to stay in and poison him. Still, it could have been worse. If Benjamin had been hit in a vital spot or if Isaiah hadn’t been here and able to operate so quickly—she broke off from those thoughts. Benjamin was going to be fine.
Isaiah’s hands were steady and competent as he stitched her son back together. “He should shift as soon as I’m done if he has the energy. It will help the chipped bone repair itself.”
He stepped back and dumped the needle onto the bedside table, his hands covered in blood. “His werewolf genetics will heal the bone, but it will take a bit longer than normal because of the silver coating the bullet. Make him rest a few days at least. A week would be best.”
“I will,” she promised. She removed the towel from between her son’s lips. “Can you shift now?”
Benjamin struggled to answer. “Think so.”
“If you can’t, don’t push it.” Isaiah rested his hand on Benjamin’s forehead, his concern obvious. “You can rest and try again later.”
Benjamin shut his eyes. His face contorted with pain. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. She was just about to call a halt when his body began to shift.
He cried out in agony, but didn’t stop. By the time he’d finished shifting, Meredith was soaked to the skin in sweat. She’d felt every inch of the change her son had experienced.
The black wolf on the bed shut his eyes, his chest moving up and down in an even rhythm. Isaiah studied the wound to make sure it hadn’t broken open during the change. “We should move him and change the sheets so he’ll be more comfortable.”
“We’ll take care of that.” Meredith ran her hand up and down her son’s side before placing her hand over his heart to feel the steady beat.
“How did the hunters find us?” Michael stepped away from the corner where he’d been standing silent and watchful during the entire operation.
Everyone in the room stilled. Tension rose as Michael confronted Isaiah. “We’ve lived here for more than a decade and we’ve been fine. You’re here for a few days and we have hunters after us. Do they know where we live?”
Meredith gasped as the implication of tonight’s attack hit her. She’d been so worried about getting her pack away before the cops arrived and frantic about Benjamin’s injury, she hadn’t thought beyond.
“Oh, God!” Neema cried. “What if they come for us? What if they told other werewolves?”
“Neema.” Teague’s voice was sharp, something it rarely was with his mate.
She bit her bottom lip and burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.” She glanced at Meredith, remorse in her eyes.
Meredith hoped Isaiah hadn’t picked up on Neema’s slip of the tongue.
“They attacked at the park, not here at the club. You have to assume it was pure bad luck they found you tonight. Maybe they patrol the parks regularly.” Isaiah figured if there were hunters in the city, they probably did check out the green spaces on a regular basis.
“Maybe they followed you?” Michael stepped forward, fists curled, shoulders thrust forward, more than ready for a fight. “Or maybe you sent them?”